Like Father Like Son
by redoenguin
Summary: Grey didn't grow up with a normal dad. In fact if you check by anyone's standards Sherlock Holmes isn't normal. Living with Sherlock is just one thing after the other especially when you're his son. Please review. Rated T because I'm paranoid
1. Chapter 1

"Dad, I'm going to be late to school if you don't hurry up!" He looked at me with little interest on his face and then said, "So what, school is a place for the offspring of barbarians with no idea of how to use their own brains. But if you feel so compelled to go then call a taxi. I'll be here when you get back." He went back to dissecting something that looked like a cow's eye.

I grabbed my pack and slid down the stairs. "Don't go breaking your neck, Grey! Your father would kill me if you did." Mrs. Hudson yelled at me. I stopped to talk to her. "I'll try not to, Mrs. Hudson. I'm going to school today, so that would be a bad thing."

"Why isn't your dad taking you? Better yet, why isn't John taking you?"

"Dad's busy and Uncle John is doing something with Greg. It's fine Mrs. Hudson. Don't need to interrupt Dad's work anyhow." Mrs. Hudson gave me a pitying look, but went back to making a tea.

I ran out the door and hailed a cab. When I got to the school I could already see other students running in. I threw on my blazer and ran in. I had no idea where to go. Some prefect saw me wandering around and pointed me to the office. I had to admit that the whole school was pretty pristine. Dad would have hated it.

The office ladies stared at me when I came in. "Do you have a problem, son?"

"I'm new. Grey Holmes. Um… my dad was supposed to have called." The lady suddenly got an appalled look on her face, but then hid it. She was obviously one of the people who had believed my dad was a fake so many years ago. She probably still did. She was also in an affair with the headmaster and her husband worked for the government. Apparently her husband was on the verge of finding out as well. She was going to hate me.

"Oh yes, so you're the Holmes boy. I've heard a lot about your father. Just let me print out your schedule and you'll be on your way." The lady went to her printer and got a piece of paper. She stared at it a bit before coming back. "So you've never gone to school before?" I wanted to say of course not and who did she think I was, but I was going to try not to make any rude comments. So I shook my head. "Ok, so you're in Year 4. But you have Latin and Science with a group of Year 6's. Just follow the room numbers, ok?"

"Ok, I'll just be on my way then." She unwillingly handed me the schedule and a note and told me to go upstairs." I went upstairs to find my class somewhere in the middle of rehearsing their times tables. I handed the note to the teacher and sat down and watched the children incessantly chant over and over again. On the playground when a group of kids asked me what I was doing here I almost punched them. They were obviously from high class families with lack of self-esteem, but strong fatherly figures.

The rest of the day was equally boring. My dad was right. School children can be considered on the same level as nethanderals. I got thrown out of one class for interrupting a teacher in class with "incessant singing" and I had detention tomorrow for telling another teacher his wife would be angry about his affair with the English teacher. Not such a fine day. I was happy to get back home.

My dad and Uncle John were arguing at the table when I got home. "I did no such thing!"

"Then why are all my eyes in the trash!"

"Maybe you put them there and forgot."

"Do you know me as the type to forget things? Or to throw them away?" They were both red in the face. I stepped in to the kitchen and they stopped. Uncle John looked at my dad, "Sherlock, you could've told me you weren't going to take Grey to school. I would've at least taken the taxi with him." I had a feeling that this is what they had been arguing about for a while.

"You were fine weren't you, Grey? Was it everything you hoped for and more?" He had a sarcastic look on his face.

"Of course it was." I pulled the pink detention slip out of my bag. "Sign this." Dad looked at it and then shook his head.

"Disrespecting a teacher's personal life? They give detention for that? Did you tell him that their secret affair was going south?" I nodded. "Then help me here. Give me that humorous bone." I searched through the pile of bones until I found the right bone. I looked it over before handing it to him.

"Man in his 40's died from a heart attack?"

"50 actually. Long ways off."

"Cannon fodder." Dad turned away before laughing almost like he was humiliated. He took the bone and crushed it into piece, placing only a small piece in his solution. Uncle John laughed and left mumbling, "Like father, like son."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dad didn't sign my detention slip. Instead he opted to light it on fire and put it out in his can of aqueous humor. "You aren't going to show up for that detention. In fact as far as I'm concerned you might as well not show up to school for the rest of the year." He said this as he was getting ready to go help Greg with some case halfway across the city. Uncle John sympathetically patted me on the shoulder. I wasn't sure if I was happy about the detention thing or pissed because I felt school was a thing I needed. "We'll be home before midnight. Don't move anything. Have Mrs. Hudson fix you a dinner." And with that parting shot he tied his scarf and bounded down the stairs with Uncle John following.

I went downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat and told her my dad was going out. She almost threw a fit when she found out he was leaving me here alone. She was going out with the restaurant manager from downstairs and couldn't make me dinner. I didn't have the heart to tell her that he was gay. On her way out she told me that one day she would call the child welfare service on my dad. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't go over very well.

Back upstairs I decided to try and do English homework, but it was so mind numbingly dull that I couldn't help but throw it out the window. Twenty minutes later there was a police car parked at my door. I could hear arguing outside and then the door flew open. "Grey get your coat. Lestrade thinks that it is inappropriate to leave an 8 year old home alone." I watched as Uncle John, Greg, Dad, Anderson and Donovan trooped up the stairs.

"Did you really need to bring a whole army? I can handle myself just fine, thank-you very much." Anderson and Donovan exchanged scowls and a couple of words regarding my dad. My dad said something about them being comparable to a couple of apes with driver licenses.

"It can be considered irresponsible of not only Sherlock, but me to leave you alone where things can happen. It's even worse that I know because now we need to do something about it. You need an adult with you." Greg was really getting on my nerves. Anderson and Donovan were in the kitchen looking through dad's experiments. He yelled at them when they came close to the aqueous humor containing my detention. I think it would be better if they didn't find out about that.

"What are you going to do then? Take me to the crime scene? I'm sure Anderson would love that." I think I got scowls from everyone but dad who seemed to be laughing. Greg shook his head and said something along the lines of that being unethical. Then my dad got a look on his face. It was the "I'm going to say something brilliant" look. "He's going to come with us to the crime scene. I could use a better partner analyst than Anderson and, no offense John, but Grey's better at this than you are."

"None taken." Although it looked like Uncle John was a little offended. I didn't blame him. I would be too.

Anderson and Donovan looked at Greg. "You aren't going to actually let him do this? He's a kid; he'll mess up the crime scene. Did I mention that he is a kid and isn't qualified as a forensics investigator like me? I can just tolerate Sherlock, but a kid?!" Greg looked doubtful.

"I bet that Mrs. Anderson wasn't too happy about you coming home after midnight last night. Or that you weren't at the bar like you said, but with Ms. Donovan." He looked like he would come up and smack me himself if there hadn't been three neutral adults in the room.

"I did not!" He managed to stammer out while Donovan stood there with a blatantly obvious blush. "Lestrade are you going to let him do this?"

"Well it seems that he just proved he's just as capable as his father. I don't see why not as long as you don't mess anything up. And try to keep your manners in check." I almost beamed as I ran to get my coat from the closet.

Anderson gave me the death look as we all walked outside and into the police car. Dad looked like he could be no prouder of me. And well Greg looked like he wanted to puke.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

At the crime scene Greg tried to conceal me from as many of the police officers involved as possible. A few of them gave me sideways glances, while many of them scowled at the entire entourage. The actual crime scene wasn't as exciting as I thought initially. I thought it would be more like TV with people rushing about and fancy equipment and like a dozen specialists. It was just a dead body hanging out the window with a couple of people on cell phones calling Scotland Yard for more information on the victim. As far as the specialists go there was Anderson.

My dad went over to the body. The lady was in her twenties and kind of pretty looking. She was married. I could smell her cheap perfume telling me that she was going out for the night with some respectable person. She was going out, because her fancy jacket was frayed at the ends and kind of discolored. That meant it was her only one, used only when she was trying to be fancy. She wouldn't wear it normally because she usually worked at a dry cleaner, hence the fraying from being dry cleaned so many times. She died from what looked like a beating to the head.

Anderson looked at me with contempt, "So what did the great Grey Holmes figure out?"

I told him what I had just thought over. He went quiet and left the room with a hateful look on his face. I looked at the rest of the room. It was a nursery for somebodies kid. It wasn't her kid or her house. In fact she was in the wrong part of town.

My dad was coming up with the same thing. "Well it's obvious she was dragged her from her original place of death, probably a set up to get the police running in circles." He nodded firmly to Greg before turning to leave the room. "Tell me when you find the killer. She's obviously still hiding in the house. I for one would prefer not to be here when you arrest her." Greg looked at John, "She?" They both frowned. But wasn't it obvious that the killer was a she? The victim's body had no bruising from the killers grip. The grip was obviously small and lady like. The corpse's hair and clothes were all rumpled showing the killers sign of struggle at carrying her up here. There were marks on the floor showing that the body had been dragged. If it had been a man it wouldn't have looked that way. The murderer was still inside the house because when we had first entered the back door was open. Investigation wasn't going on over there so it was obviously left open. If the killer was any typical murderer they would have come and left through the back door. Except they didn't leave.

Greg looked downstairs to Donovan. "Lock the whole house up. There's a murderer inside we don't want to get out." Donovan stared at her feet before scowling and ordering the loitering officers to lock up the house. My dad was outside smoking a cigarette. I thought he had quit.

I looked around the room. Along the bottom of the wall were scuff marks. It wasn't from the owners of the house because you would try to be careful in a baby's nursery. The marks were from someone in a hurry in with shoes they weren't used to wearing, new shoes. Therefor the shoes would have made other marks. I located them and followed down the hallway into the master bedroom.

I opened the door to the master bedroom and saw darkness. Someone had closed all the curtains. I turned on the light. I walked inside and I felt someone grab me from behind. I panicked and spun around. There was a lady holding a baseball bat to my head. "Don't do anything or else we're going to see just how many blows it takes to knock your brains all over the wall." The lady was American. She sounded very cliché. I tried to keep my mind busy by thinking of all the different scenarios that could happen. About 67% of them ended up with me brain damaged or dead. 25% of them ended up with me having a concussion. 6% ended up with me walking away unscathed. 2% ended up with someone else dying instead of me.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Greg walked into the room a couple of minutes later. He saw me with the murderer and his eyes went wide. "Let the boy go. Grey are you ok?" I nodded slowly. "Miss just let the boy go and nobody will get hurt."

"If I let him go where is my insurance going to be? If I let him go then you're just going to charge me with even more years in the slammer."

Greg's eyes shifted around the room possibly looking for a vantage point where he could get me safely. "You've already done enough harm. No matter what you do even if you kill the boy you'll just be in more trouble." Greg made a move to come towards me and the lady wrapped her arm around my neck. I could hardly breathe.

"Let me go and I won't batter his brains out all over the walls." I noticed that my hands were starting to shake. I didn't get nervous. It just didn't happen. "He's going to die and you'll be the one who killed him detective inspector." I watched the doorway and saw my dad come up the stairs. He was staring right at me. This wasn't going to end well at all. My dad strode down the hall and I could literally see that hate bubbling up on his face. Uncle John came from the other room and came running down.

They were just making murderer more nervous. She tightened her grip around my neck and I kind of hoped that I would pass out from oxygen loss before she decided to beat my head in. Greg had pulled out his gun and was shouting for her to drop the weapon. I decided to just start doubling numbers. Nothing was going to stop here from at least getting one blow in at this point.

"Miss, you better let go of my son. I don't believe that this is the best way to end your life."

"I don't want to die. That's why I'm doing this. You can't kill me without me killing him first." I didn't like the way that my dad was playing his cards. It was coming to the point where my chances of escaping unscathed were 1 to 100. Although the chance that I would only get a concussion was becoming a bit more likely and I liked those odds.

"Honestly I think that if you keep this up you will die. I will personally kill you if you don't let him go. Oh Lestrade may let you go, but I will hunt you down and kill you. You wouldn't like to deal with that." The lady flinched as dad came closer. I took more gulps of air. She was afraid of him which I think was good for me. My odds of survival were increased by 5%.

"I will do it. I have nothing to lose. You'll put me in jail for the rest of my life where I can end up being someone's bitch. I'd rather die." God, she was suicidal. My survival odds dropped. If someone didn't do something I was going to end up dead. Clearly the adults weren't getting anywhere and I think that I needed to do something.

"Can I have more air? This lack of air is making it difficult to think." The lady kindly obliged and lowered her grip to going around my chest. While she was doing that I bit her arm. She swung down the bat and I jumped out of her grip. Her bat came crashing down on the front of my head and everything went black.

SSS

"Don't tell me what I can't do. You obviously aren't qualified to take care of a child." My head hurt and my ears were ringing. It was Uncle John's voice ringing in my ears. I snapped open my eyes. I could see Anderson's face hovering over mine. Stars swarmed all over Anderson's face. I could smell his deodorant and I gagged. "Give him space. Anderson just move."

"I can assess him. I am certified in trauma."

"Anderson, get out of my face!" Anderson moved and Uncle John came to my side. I preferred that he treated me. My shirt was red and sticky. So was my forehead. Where was I? What had happened? "What happened? Where am I? Where's dad?"

"It's alright. Greg's taking the murderer to the jail. An ambulance should be here soon. Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Where's my dad? I want my dad." I tried getting up but it was almost like an invisible force pushing me back down. Uncle John steadied me. He hoisted me around his back before moving again. The moving made me dizzy. I could feel my eye lids fluttering. I was falling asleep.

SSS

"John, I couldn't help him. He needed me and I couldn't help him. He needs his mom. She can't just expect me to raise a child without any collateral damage." I kept my eyes shut as if I was asleep. "I'm not an idiot Grey. I know you're awake." I opened my eyes. We were in a hospital room with lots of bright lights. A nurse was taking my vitals. Someone had changed my school shirt and pants into a hospital gown.

"What were you thinking? When dealing with a suicidal homicidal maniac one does not bite them and duck and not expect to get hit." Even though he was scolding me it was clear he was happy I was awake. Uncle John was more affectionate than my father of course, but it meant a lot to me all the same that they were here.

A doctor strode in with all the efficiency of a robot. He explained that I had a concussion from a blunt force injury to my forehead. I would probably have a couple of headaches, but I should be fine. Even in my condition I could tell he hated his job and he wasn't very good at hiding it.

My dad had me packed up and ready to go by the time the doctor was leaving the room. The nurse objected, but there was nothing she could do against Uncle John's persuading and dad's bluntness. I was hoisted over Uncle John's shoulder as we walked outside and hailed a taxi. I was happy to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It had been two weeks since my concussion. Dad was convinced that I should be homeschooled for the rest of my life and Uncle John was convinced that Lestrade should be put on trial for putting a child in harm's way. Of course I went back to school as soon as I could, but that didn't last long considering I was expelled on the grounds that I blew up the very expensive chemistry lab. My dad was very proud.

Although, I was positive that from now on my dad was going to take me with him to every crime scene he went to. I think something broke in him. He was suddenly a bit more tolerant, a bit more human. Don't get me wrong though he was still himself and I don't think that anybody honestly noticed besides me.

I was lying on the couch trying to ignore the bickering that was going on in the kitchen. Uncle John had gotten a call from Uncle Mycroft. He was coming over. On principle Dad did not have a very happy childhood with Uncle Mycroft. Actually I couldn't understand how they were related. Uncle John argued that it was wrong to not let him see his nephew. Dad argued that it wasn't against the law to withhold a nephew from his uncle.

The doorbell rang. "I'm coming up, Sherlock!" It didn't really make a difference anyway the door was always unlocked. I could hear the heavy pounding of steps as Mycroft came up stairs. He was off his diet again. I don't think he ever was on a diet. The door to out flat opened and in stepped Mycroft looking as professional as ever. Suit, tie, shoes and even an umbrella.

"How's the concussion doing, Grey? John could you get us some tea?" Uncle John scowled before going into the kitchen. Mycroft sat down on a chair opposite of the couch. I sat up and tried to look professional in my pyjamas.

"Fine, Uncle John says that I've made an excellent recovery." I watched as dad walked up the stairs to his room. Uncle John followed him, probably trying to comfort him.

"Excellent. I brought you a gift." He took a small wrapped present out of his pocket. Eagerly I unwrapped it and opened the box. "It's a pocket watch from our family. It was my grandfather's." I ran my hands over the cover. It was actually really elegant. Then I realized the trick it wasn't from that long ago. In fact it could have been made only this year. It only had an old design. I turned it over in my hands.

"Are you sure this is your grandfather's? It looks like it was made last month." I heard dad laugh from his room. Mycroft smiled.

"No it isn't. You can still keep it as a gift. And I have a case for you…"

"Apparently you've been waiting for a while haven't you? If you had this planned a month ago then I wonder how long it took you to convince the rest of the government that using your eight year nephew was a viable option."

Mycroft sighed before taking on the look he used on dad a lot. "Yes, you're right. It is a case that has been pending for a while. Unfortunately we don't want to risk the enemy knowing the government is involved. I think this might also be something your father might be interested in." It was as if on cue that dad came rushing downstairs.

"You have a case for us then. How's the diet going then?"

Mycroft cringed, but pleasantly answered, "Fine in fact. I do plan on being civilized Sherlock, could I hold you to the same intentions?" Dad screwed up his face before nodding.

"About a year ago we got a call from the CIA. One of their agents had gone undercover in a terrorist cell and discovered a connection between their operations and a school called Mountainside Institution. The agent was killed when the leader learned he was CIA. Our government has looked into the institution and found a few discrepancies. There seems to be something suspicious going on at that school, the students are behind it as well. We need to put an agent in there without them knowing the government is involved." My dad's brain was working like clockwork. I could already see him piecing together the rest of the case.

"So you want Grey to pose as a student to see what's going on there. It's a school and therefore a new student would go relatively unnoticed. No, but the government wouldn't agree to putting a child in possible danger. So he would need a handler, someone equally talented and equally unconnected, which is me. Of course I bring John, and we pose as teachers and he poses as a student." Mycroft kept his calm before going on.

"We have cover stories for each one of you. John you would be a biology teacher, Sherlock would be a chemistry teacher and Grey would be a troubled student kicked out of his previous school."

"Pretty accurate cover stories," remarked Uncle John.

"Indeed, it shouldn't be hard sticking to them. My agents will brief you in full before sending you out there next week."

My dad was looking a bit insubordinate, "Suppose we decline, Mycroft? I have better things to do then spend my days at a school for snot nosed kids. I'm also sure that we don't need to be putting Grey in danger again. If I were to go, Grey wouldn't have to go.

Mycroft looked at me sympathetically, "It is true. I do only need Sherlock and John there. It might be safer that way."

I looked at my father incredulously. "I want to go. I'm bored. Stuff is dull around here. Dad, please I just want to go. I won't get in trouble this time."

"Don't tell me that, Grey. I meant it when I said you need a mother. You need a grown-up to raise you, not me. I put you in danger unnecessarily, you could have been killed. I am selfish, a sociopath and a genius. The only reason you haven't died in these eight years is pure luck and having John around. I'm not relying on luck anymore. You're going to go live with Mycroft. He is an adult and he is grown-up." Mycroft looked guilty. He knew this was the way it was all along. Dad was playing John and me from the beginning of today. He told Mycroft to come.

Mycroft looked like he wanted to say something, but I ran downstairs to my room. Mrs. Hudson saw me, but she didn't say anything. There must have been something written on my face. I buried my face into my hands and flopped on my bed. I liked it on Baker's Street. It was my home and I didn't know anywhere else. No offense to Uncle Mycroft, but he was dull and there was no way I could live like that. I couldn't be normal.

Mycroft walked in the room an hour later. "You know I've never seen your room before. It looks a bit like your father's. When you were a baby I used to think that you looked a lot like me, but every time I see you again you look more like your father. I knew your mother and I know she'd be proud of how Sherlock raised you. He raised you to the best of his abilities. I did take care of you when you were just a baby. It was just after Sherlock jumped off that building. You showed up on my doorstep one day with a note from Irene, your mother. Sherlock was nowhere to be found, so I cared for you until around your 1st birthday. My dear brother showed up in tattered rags. He took you in after we learned you were his. I've never been more proud of him. Don't tell him that, of course."

I climbed on top of my wardrobe. I didn't like talking about my past. It didn't make me who I was, therefore it didn't matter. Mycroft sat on my bed, he had his concerned face on. "Sherlock wanted it this way. You know that he lives a life that isn't conventional. He isn't a bad person. Our family isn't very good at emotion. But he is right; his line of work will put you in more danger. We could force you to move in with me, but that wouldn't be very good, would it?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Mycroft, but I can't live with you. I'd be bored out of my mind. I like living with dad, because I'm used to it and it's the only place where I'm not bored. Boredom is the most dangerous thing I know. I can run away. You'd never see me again."

Uncle Mycroft knew it was an empty threat. "You know that would be of no use. You don't have to be bored. You can help me with my work if you'd like. Your father just doesn't want to see you hurt. You have a whole group of adults that doesn't want to see you hurt. Right now your father feels that this is the best way to ensure you aren't hurt. And I agree." I grabbed my plush microbe and threw it at him.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

**_Mycroft's Point of View_**

I didn't like watching Grey sulk around his room, collecting seemingly random items of clothing to put into a traveling case. He had eventually given up fighting me and resorted to making me feel guilty, for something that wasn't my fault. I followed him as he went upstairs, collecting more random items as he went along.

Grey turned around. "Uncle Mycroft, I'm ready to go." Grey's curls and cheekbones resembled Sherlock so much that I cringed. His eyes were deep blue and accusing. He would not forgive me for taking him from his dad. I didn't want to take him, but if Sherlock thought it best then it was not my place to judge.

"My car is out front. I'll carry your case." Grey ran and hugged Sherlock. He was crying. Sherlock's suit crumpled and became wet with tears. My brother whispered something to his son before pushing him towards John, who in turn hugged the no longer crying boy. I couldn't understand what had caused the change in emotion so quickly.

I put the suitcase in the back of the car. Once I got in, Grey stared at me cautiously, "I'm not going to school."

"You have to go to school until you're sixteen. It's not my decision; it's the government's law." Grey gave me a sideways look.

"You're the government; change the law."

"I can't just change the law anytime my nephew wants me too. School isn't that bad. Both your father and I went to school and we came out fine."

"If by fine you mean sociopath, then sure you came out fine."

"Oh yes, because you fell so far from the tree. I don't have time to homeschool you, Grey. I'm sure that there is some school out there that'll be good for you. My old school might satisfy you.

"I'm not going to a boarding school! If you send me there, I assure you that I will get myself kicked out." That's what my dear brother said when my parents told him he had to go to school. The car stopped at my house a few miles outside of the city. "Wow, you live in that?", at first, couldn't tell what he was talking about, but then I realized that Grey had never been to my house before. I had always visited Sherlock at home or in a public place.

"Home sweet home."

**_Grey's Point of View_**

Uncle Mycroft's home was huge. It was exactly how I imagined it: with no sign that anyone really lived here. The floor next to the door was free of scratches. Uncle Mycroft must sleep at work a lot. Or maybe he had a flat closer in city.

"Do you actually live here?"

"Of course I do. Why else would I have a house if I didn't live in it?"

"For show." Uncle Mycroft gave me a look like I was a nutter. I walked through the kitchen (there was a chef cooking something), and the dining room, to what Mycroft called the guest room, or rather it was my room now. There was a four-poster bed, a desk and a wardrobe. It was possibly the dullest room I had ever walked into.

"Dinner's at 6. I'll just let you settle in. If you need me I'll be in my office." He set my case down on my bed before walking out with a grimace on his face. Ten seconds later I walked out and went down the hallway. I kept opening doors till I found what I looked for. The library.

Of course the library was well stocked; it was a Holmes we were talking about here. I picked a book off the shelf and started reading, letting the worries of the day go away as the words took me to a different place. I didn't want to care that my dad had effectively told me to go live with his estranged brother.

Dinner was relatively awkward, with Mycroft making calls to different people about arrangements for my stay. The dining table was long and made for many more people than were actually present, so I was a relatively far distance away from Mycroft. I was okay with that. The filet mignon was excellent, I was willing to admit. Mycroft made no attempt to talk; offering only small tense smiles. I hear him contacting his old boarding school, speaking to some lady about proper items a kid should have, talking to a doctor, inquiring about a couple of other schools, arguing some guy named Nark about the presidential elections in Egypt, that and my father. After dinner I helped the cook wash up, while Mycroft kept talking on his phone.

I retreated to the library for the rest of the night, leaving Mycroft to his government. I don't remember when Mycroft walked into the library. I had been trying to stay awake to read the last few chapters of my book and only had a few more pages to go. Then there I was in Mycroft's arms being carried to my bedroom. He kind of reminded me of my dad. He would do the same thing when we stayed up late working on something. I missed my dad.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I can't hear you, I can't hear you, and I'm not listening." I put my hands over my ears and started singing God Save the Queen. I buried my head in my pillow. "It's not happening, Mycroft. I can't hear you. I can't see you. Therefore you can't exist." I felt my head being pulled up. I took my head out of the pillow and faced Mycroft defiantly.

"What's so terrible about school that you can't be troubled to go?" His face was plastered with seriousness.

"I will be put in classes with idiots, the sons and daughters of nethanderals. I will be taught common sense by those who lack it the most. There is nothing I can get there that I can't read in a book." Mycroft scowled.

"You can learn how to socialize and be around regular people. I can't have you hanging around the house all day like a hermit. Your dad will be back soon enough and I don't want him to think that I wasted your time." Living with Mycroft was like living with a constant nagging in the back of my mind. He definitely tried playing the father figure; trying to make me go to school, making me go outside and meet people, stopping me from reading all day, making me eat and sleep at regular times. I literally lived with the government breathing down my neck.

"I don't need to know how to live like a regular person. I'm sure my dad would think that going to school was a waste of my time."

"Just go to school today. I have important things to do and I can't be here baby-sitting you all day. I am not going to beg. I can have you sent by force; I'd just rather not waste the time in doing so." I picked myself off the bed so I wouldn't have to have Mycroft's face hovering over mine.

"I'm sure the government will fall if their queen isn't there today. Go ahead; force me to go to school. I can't ensure I'll stay there the whole day." Mycroft glared at me with loathing.

"I'm going to get ready for work. You will be ready for school when I get back. You will go to school and I will drag you there if I have to." With that parting shot Mycroft left my room. Something about the way he said that made me think he was completely serious. I quickly changed into the school uniform that had been laid out for me. I went to my backpack and started to throw as many books as I could manage into it. I was not going to be bored at school.

When Mycroft came back I followed him out to the car as obediently as I could manage. There was not a single word muttered on the way into the city. I didn't dare look Mycroft in the eye. When we reached the school, Mycroft walked me to the office to introduce me to the headmaster. I asked him how his divorce was going. He only gave me a sideways look, but Mycroft looked incredibly embarrassed.

When it was time for Mycroft to go, he knelt down to my side and whispered in my ear, "Please, don't make this any more complicated than it needs to be." I didn't acknowledge the comment but proceeded to say goodbye and go to my classes. As soon as I got to my first class I took out a book and started to read. I didn't want to be a nuisance to Mycroft by getting in trouble.

During lunch, a group of kids decided to come over to where I was eating. "What are you doing at our table?"

"I'm sorry; I didn't realize that the tables had owners. There's a couple of seats right over there. I'm sure I changing tables won't interrupt your business."

"Now see here's the thing. We don't want no new kid to go around interrupting our conversations. So get up and move."

This was about to get bad.

"It's not 'no new kid'. It's any new kid. And no, I'm not going to move. I'm already sitting here. There are plenty of open tables over there." The leader of the group huffed out some inaudible command to his lackeys. I was grabbed and dragged away from my seat at the table.

"Nobody disobeys my commands. This is my school and no curly haired punk is going to take it from me." None of the students around me were objecting to my treatment. It just went to show how brave a group of eight year olds was. I was thrown onto the ground. I quickly picked myself up and pushed the kid while his back was turned. He stumbled and turned around to face me. "Don't push me." He pushed me back. I let my body back up a bit as I watched my attacker come forward.

The kid came forward and swung his fist lazily at me. I easily backed up. He charged me; stepped to the side. He was getting angry and sent more uncoordinated attacks at me. They were all easily dodged. By this time I was surrounded by three other kids. The odds were against me. The chances of getting out of this situation unscathed had slowly decreased to zero.

Twenty minutes later, I ended up sitting in the headmaster's office with an ice bag on my left eye. The one kid who actually landed a punch had a terrible aim. The principal was done scolding me for defending myself, though perhaps he didn't see it that way. We were just waiting for Mycroft to come. When the door opened though, it wasn't Mycroft; it was one of his assistants. "Mr. Holmes sends his sincerest apologies that he can't be here at the moment. He has sent me to deal with the situation at hand." The headmaster was clearly baffled.

"Well it appears that Grey has gotten himself into a fight. Our school has no tolerance for fighting of any sort. Grey will be put on probation for the next two weeks, which means if he gets in trouble again he will be expelled." The assistant nodded and picked up her phone to text Mycroft, and I was soon released back to class. The kids who had attacked me wouldn't look at me. I had broken their sacred rules of school and was therefore shunned.

The rest of my day was typical of my regular school day. It didn't go at all like I had planned. I was expelled by the end of the day for calling another kid a cow, destroying school property, and insulting the headmaster. I just couldn't understand what drove me to those things. I guess that school and I just didn't get along.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

Mycroft didn't come back to the house until it was time for dinner. I had dreaded him coming home all day long. It was bad enough that the school had required his presence twice, but my expulsion was pushing it a bit. I decided I wasn't hungry enough to face Mycroft and hid in one of the empty rooms. I could hear his footsteps walk along the hallways of the house. He was probably looking for me.

I went and hid in the wardrobe of the empty room. The wardrobe was filled with kid-size suits. It looked like this was where Mycroft kept his childhood. The dust in here was making my eyes water. I settled in at the bottom of the wardrobe and closed my eyes listening for the sound of footsteps. It sounded like Mycroft was pacing in his bedroom. I was dangerously close to his bedroom, only being a door away.

Curiosity got the best of me, as I opened the wardrobe door and climbed out. I went through the rest of the contents of the room finding more clothes, uniforms, a couple of medals, a notebook and curiously enough, a cello. The case had MH written on it in magic marker. Inside the cello was perfect. Someone had humidified it quite recently and kept in working condition.

I wanted to play it, but I honestly had no idea how. I ran my hands over the wood of the cello. It was elegant like my dad's violin. I was tempted to pluck the strings, but it was possible Mycroft would hear me. So I put the cello away, back where I found it.

Outside footsteps came closer to the door. I quickly went back into the wardrobe. The door opened. "Come on out, Grey." The door to the wardrobe opened and Mycroft stood there with the face he usually had on when he was talking to Sherlock. In one instant Mycroft was pulling me by the wrist down to his office. I didn't realize just how strong Mycroft could be. Once we were in his office he sat me down on a chair as he sat behind his desk.

"Grey, do you know what it took me to get you enrolled in that school? They didn't want to take you because of your track record. I told them you would be no trouble. The headmaster believed me and then you were expelled in one day." I felt like I was being interrogated. I guess I kind of was. I stared at my feet. Mycroft continued, "I know that Sherlock could honestly care less if you go to school or not, but I'm not him. No school is going to want to take you in with a record like that. I asked for one very simple thing and you could not even do that." I kind of hoped in my head that he wouldn't insist I go back to school.

**Mycroft's Point of View**

Grey looked utterly disinterested in what I was saying, or perhaps he was ashamed. It was hard to tell, because he had no emotion on his face. Honestly, I didn't care much for what I was saying either. I was only saying it because it was what was expected. I couldn't do much scolding with Grey acting as if he was above things such as school. He was my brother's son.

Grey was something new to the Holmes family. Both Sherlock and I made it through school without causing much trouble. Nevertheless, Grey was used to living with my stubborn, arrogant, and socially disconnected brother. That combined with John's fierce loyalty, determination, and resourcefulness, made Grey dangerous. I had no idea how to deal with him. He wouldn't listen to reason, persuasion, or threats. I could keep him locked away from society, but then he would be happy with that. I could force him to go to school, but as he already proved, he can handle that. At least Sherlock wasn't like this when he was a child or else I would've found it hard to live with him.

I let Grey go to his room after telling him he was grounded. It didn't seem to faze him. I felt like shouting and yelling at the boy for his calm demeanor. If Sherlock had been expelled he would've at least looked guilty and tried to make up for it.

I went to my room, trying to figure out what I could do with Grey.

**Grey's Point of View**

Mycroft thought I couldn't care less about what happened. The truth was I did care, but it was better if Mycroft didn't know that. It didn't pay to care. Bad things happen when you care too deeply about things. I learned that the hard way.

Being grounded was like giving me a free pass to severe all human interaction. I liked it that way. I stayed in my room for the remainder of my grounding, only eating when someone brought me food. Because of this, I think Mycroft decided to cut my punishment in half because it was evident it didn't affect me like he had probably hoped.

I was counting the days since I had been living with Mycroft. It had been 3 weeks 4 days 14 hours and 8 minutes since we left my house on Baker Street. Mycroft wouldn't tell me any details about my dad's case, claiming it was a matter of national security. I told him that if it was a matter of national security, then why would he let his immature brother on the case? He grimaced and told me that the case was going good. That was all I got.

We were sitting at the dining table eating. Unfortunately Mycroft wasn't talking on his phone, so the table fell into an awkward silence. "I'm not making you go back to school. It would be useless considering you dislike for authority. I've decided to hire a tutor for you."

"A tutor? You sure I just can't go to school?" I didn't want a teacher just for myself. At least at school I could read will the teacher was being boring. With a tutor, they would expect me to actually work.

"I thought that you didn't want to go back to school. A tutor will be good for you. They can devote all of their attention to your education."

"I don't want a tutor. Can't you teach me?"

"I work for the British government. One does not simply quit a job like mine, to teach an 8 year old. I will not take a child with me to work either." Mycroft swung his umbrella against the chair. His look was disapproving and I tried not to look him in the eye. I clambered down from my seat and took away the dishes from the table. I started washing them in the kitchen.

Mycroft followed me into the kitchen. "You're being completely childish. All of this over a tutor?" I kept cleaning. "No, no you're not doing this today. Go sulk in your room. I'll have the cook finish the dishes." I turned and slowly went down the hall and I went into my room. I couldn't pack my rucksack considering I had used it earlier to throw at the headmaster. So I was quite limited to what I was packing.

I didn't want to stay here with Mycroft anymore, three weeks was enough. There was no way that I wanted a tutor or to deal with Mycroft any longer than completely necessary. I wanted to see my dad. I took my jacket and stuffed it with socks and my Oyster card.

My room was on the first floor, so it was quite easy to jump out the window. The air outside was brisk and it made me pop my collar up. The grounds around Mycroft's house were muddy from rain earlier in the day. I got on the road and started walking towards the tube.


	9. Chapter 9

The ride to Baker Street was fairly uneventful. I did get a couple of sideways looks from adults, probably wondering what a child was doing on the tube in the middle of the night. At home there weren't any lights on, my dad hadn't come home yet from that institute and I think Mrs. Hudson was out. At least that was what I would've hoped. I used my key to get in and realized that home was not the same without dad. It was like it was just a meaningless house again, just like Mycroft's place. I would just have to make the best of it.

In my room everything was left exactly as it was when I had left it. Upstairs was a different story. The place looked like it had been ransacked, the chairs were upturned, the books were scattered on the floor and glass was broke in bits around the ground. Dad's papers were scattered around the floor with foot marks on them. I cataloged the marks for later reference. I slowly and systematically went through the rest of the house checking for damage. They had gone through both dad's and Uncle John's room. Mrs. Hudson's flat was left alone.

I went to my bedroom to go change clothes and then brought up paper and a pencil. I wrote a note to dad for when he came back. All likelihood being that I wasn't going to be here when he got, he would know to investigate. I left it on the kitchen table and then went to lay on the couch.

I didn't know how long that my dad would be on Mycroft's mission. I hoped he would be back soon, because there was no way I could live without him for long. There was never any food in the fridge or cupboards, because dad preferred to use those for his experiments. I would starve if I couldn't buy food. And I couldn't tap into dad's trust fund because Mycroft would find out where I was. I suddenly realized that this was a truly hopeless situation. It was likely that with Mycroft's influence, I wouldn't be able to stay this way for long.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I only remember waking up in Mycroft's car. My seat belt was rubbing against my neck, so I sat up. Mycroft was sitting across from me with the "Sherlock" face on. In other words the, "I'm concerned, but I'm also frustrated face". It wasn't hard to deduce that Mycroft must've figured I went back to the flat and came to get me. It didn't really frustrate me that Mycroft found me, it was expected. I frustrated me that I was so stupid to believe that I would be able to hide from him.

"What did you expect? A great escape? I told you from the beginning that running away would be useless. I can't handle your childish fits with turmoil in Mongolia coming closer."

"Someone broke into my home. You can't just expect to leave that unattended, Mongolia can wait. Whoever broke in didn't take anything. That meant that they wanted to encounter one of us."

Mycroft sighed before looking at me. "And clearly they weren't well informed. If they were someone to be concerned with, they would've known nobody's been in the flat for weeks. I'm not going to waste my time searching after someone that won't take breaking into a Holmes's home seriously." He was clearly unimpressed by my concern for the intruders. But he was right. If it was someone worth worrying about, they would've planned the attempt more seriously. Unless it was just a ploy to get us into thinking that we were safe.

It turned out that Mycroft wasn't terribly angry. He was only concerned for my safety and I guess that made me happy. But I was still grounded for "not using common sense". He was still adamant about getting a tutor for me, probably even more than before. "You need structure to your life. A tutor will be able to watch you while I work," he had said. I figured there was no point in arguing I was just going to let things happen as they would.

When we got home Mycroft told me that my dad was coming home. I felt like celebrating, but then I realized I was still stuck with Mycroft.

A letter fell through my window near midnight that night. I had been staring at the sky trying to calculate astronomical patterns when the paper clicked against the floor. I picked it up and traced the edges with my fingers; it was the type of stationary dad used.

_GH,_

_John and I are back at Baker Street. Ms. Hudson won't be home for another day. I found your note and the mess that the burglars left. Don't worry I'm working on it right now._

_According to Mycroft things are going as well as expected with you around. I believe you set the record for the shortest time to be expelled._

_Our project went well and it was interesting to learn that all schools are full of Neanderthals, even those for gifted children in the middle of nowhere. You should be glad you didn't go, you would've been in pain. It was boring without you however. _

_Please pack your bags and I'll be there shortly. I think it would be best if you did not tell Mycroft. It is now 12:09 and I will be there at 12:20._

_-SH_


End file.
